Chapter 61: Reader Reactions (Requesting Recommendations)

“Do evil, and retribution will follow!

The people of this city are gripped by an unprecedented frenzy and a sense of satisfaction. Here, there is a light, a god, and a scythe poised to strike down the wicked at any moment.

He is just, powerful, and at the same time, shrouded in mystery.

Everyone walks on eggshells, carefully weighing their words and actions, terrified they might become the next target of the ‘Light of the City’. Yet, everyone also grows brazen—‘The Light of the City is ours!’—and they each hope to become a sharp edge upon that executioner’s blade.

As the scales begin to tip and everyone turns into a weapon, Fang Mu chooses to be a brave counterweight.”

“This introduction is pretty intense. I wonder how well Zhang Chu can handle the story.”

Tang Hong muttered to himself, phone in hand. As a fan of detective novels, he rarely found like-minded friends. If not for the online debate between Qin Mu and Zhang Chu, he might never have noticed Zhang Chu at all.

Perfect scores in the college entrance exam and top students appear every year—what’s so special about that?

Yet Tang Hong found both sides of the argument rather irritating. The mystery novel scene was already so withered, but people still quarreled among themselves, leaving outsiders with a poor impression.

He had read Qin Mu’s works, and thanks to this incident, also came across Zhang Chu’s “Detective Sherlock.” He thought he’d be reading the second chapter of Sherlock, but unexpectedly, he found a brand-new story.

“Could this ‘Psychological Crime’ really be Zhang Chu’s original work? I have to see for myself.”

As Tang Hong spoke, he clicked into the reading page and was instantly hooked.

A teacher, a supposed role model, drives a student to suicide through corporal punishment. Then, a figure called the Light of the City emerges, meting out justice in the most primitive way—a life for a life. The teacher is judged by the same extreme standards, and his own blood is used to calculate the code of life, racing against time and death.

This was the case Zhang Chu had previously written, where blood was used as ink to solve problems in a classroom. But Lin Old Lady, Zhang Bowen, and the others all assumed the victim was a student!

Only now did Tang Hong realize the deceased was actually a thirty-three-year-old math teacher!

“The classroom has a one-way wooden door. Inside are forty-six wooden desks and chairs. The deceased, Wei Mingjun, male, thirty-three. The body is found naked on the floor in the northeast corner of the classroom, head to the west, feet to the east, in a kneeling position. There is a large amount of blood nearby, with a medium-sized white plastic bucket containing about 2,200 milliliters of dark brown liquid, identified as the deceased’s own blood…”

“Wow, this is really professional. It feels like I’m reading a coroner’s report or something.” Tang Hong couldn’t help but exclaim, struck by the sense of expertise.

Could a prospective university student really write something like this?

It felt like the work of an insider!

Tang Hong had never seen a case like this before—forcing a teacher to solve math problems. But why?

Question after question popped into his mind as he continued scrolling, when suddenly a notification appeared.

“To read the rest, please purchase. This chapter costs 0.5 yuan.”

“No way, I have to pay?” Though Tang Hong was a veteran netizen, he’d never paid for memberships on QQ or Weibo; the only thing that ever got his money was game credits.

It wasn’t that Tang Hong was stingy—he’d probably spent tens of thousands on reading, with more books, both physical and digital, than he could count. It was just his personal habit.

Though he grumbled, Tang Hong still topped up his Weibo account by five yuan, so he wouldn’t have to recharge every time.

Fortunately, “Psychological Crime” did not let him down—the ensuing plot gripped him completely.

The victim’s special identity soon surfaced; he wasn’t just an ordinary math teacher. He was also the main culprit behind a fourteen-year-old’s death!

This unscrupulous teacher had long abused his students, finally driving one to leap from the seventh floor in suicide. Though the school punished the teacher, the news exploded online, unleashing a torrent of public outrage and condemnation.

“Why does the chapter end here? What about the case analysis meeting?” Tang Hong was nearly driven to madness.

For detective novels to be compelling, the depiction of the case is crucial. How can an ordinary case arouse the reader’s curiosity and fascination?

But the opening case of “Psychological Crime” immediately hooked veteran readers like Tang Hong. He looked forward to seeing the mystery unfold, to discovering the identity of the calm and enigmatic suspect, and to understanding why he would avenge that fourteen-year-old child.

Tang Hong checked Zhang Chu’s Weibo repeatedly—sure enough, only one chapter was posted. At that moment, he was willing to pay dozens of yuan for more, but there was nowhere to buy it!

“Too short—not nearly enough!”

Unable to resist, he liked Zhang Chu’s post, copied the link, and entered the “Suspense and Mystery Home” group on QQ.

“Suspense and Mystery Home” was a haven for novel enthusiasts, with close to a thousand members, about half of whom were active, though only a small handful chatted regularly.

Tang Hong posted a ‘fishing’ emoji. “@everyone, today I found a great new seedling on Weibo. Highly recommend you check it out. The first case is really well written.”

He pasted the link. As an admin, he’d seen waves of newcomers join and old-timers fade away, earning quite a bit of respect.

Yage: “Boss Tang, what’s it called? Marking it for later, will read at home.”

Fenglingdu: “So Boss Tang’s reading this too. Zhang Chu’s not bad at all, and the platform where he published is pretty good. I just finished it myself!”

“I remember Qin Mu is still dissing him, right? Can such a young author really produce something good?” someone named Good Student asked, puzzled.

Tang Hong sent a shrug emoji. “If you want to know if it’s good, just read it yourself. I think the kid has great potential—doesn’t feel like a rookie at all. @Divine Protection, you’re a detective—see if the descriptions are accurate and professional.”

Divine Protection was a detective in a small city who often reviewed suspense and mystery novels online—a big name among readers.

He happened to be online and responded after being tagged.

“Ha, that’s a coincidence—I just finished reading it. Zhang Chu definitely studied some of the case files we released. The details are spot-on. Some parts feel like I’m reading a veteran detective’s field report. Calling it a masterpiece might be a stretch, but it’s definitely a fine work. If the case analysis maintains this quality, this kid could be the next star in the mystery writing world!”

“I’m not as professional as Divine Protection, but the case feels like it could happen around us. A math teacher abuses a student, the student kills himself, the internet erupts. There’s just no avenger, or if there was, the news never reported it.”

“Good, I’m out of books anyway. I’ll give it a look.”

“Why does the main character feel so mysterious? Hope the romance isn’t too over-the-top and doesn’t distract from the plot.”

“I just hate it when these male authors write romance—it always feels awkward.”

Someone else chimed in. There were only so many mystery fans in the group, and many had already read the story without Tang Hong’s recommendation.

Though this chapter of “Psychological Crime” cost fifty cents, it was well worth the price—nearly ten thousand words packed with substance.

True fans of detective fiction would never begrudge spending a little to support a new book with real promise.